by Alice Ross
Poor ironing, concluded Paul.
Breakfast the next morning had been interesting.
Julia and the twins were already at the table when Paul arrived downstairs. Julia, ramming slices of bread into the toaster, looking like she’d just imbibed three pints of sour milk.
‘How was your speech last night, Dad?’ Leo asked, as Paul sat down opposite him.
Before Paul had a chance to reply, Julia slammed the butter dish onto the table with such force that all three heads spun around to look at her.
Paul’s gaze fused with her frosty one. He held onto it as he made his reply. ‘Well, everyone who was there …,’ he began, in such a meaningful tone that Julia broke the connection and whisked back around to the toaster, ‘… said it was brilliant.’
‘Does that include Natalia?’ she piped up.
‘Who’s Natalia?’ asked Faye, reaching for the carton of orange juice.
‘My new assistant,’ Paul replied, hoping the flush stealing up from his toes would peter out before it reached his cheeks. ‘She’s, um, on the graduate recruitment scheme.’
‘Wow. Places on those schemes are like gold-dust,’ exclaimed Leo. ‘She must be really good.’
‘Oh, I’m sure she’s excellent,’ remarked Julia, before dumping a plate of toast on the table and strutting out of the room.
Chapter Eight
Max’s Audi was already in the car park when Julia arrived at the pub a few days later. There was a huge space right next to it but, for some nonsensical reason, she opted to squeeze into the tiny one at the opposite end of the car park instead. Given the illicitness of the occasion, it seemed the right thing to do. She switched off the engine and sat for a few minutes composing herself. Thankfully, she hadn’t had to formulate an excuse for Paul about going out this evening. His two-night business trip had been perfectly timed, given that the atmosphere in the house since the cocktail party had been so frosty, it was a wonder they hadn’t had to de-ice the living room. Whether Natalia was accompanying him on his trip, Julia hadn’t bothered to ask. But Paul wasn’t the only member of the household irritating her. Julia could scarcely look at the twins since that night either. Their lack of respect for her and complete absorption in themselves seemed to have peaked. Oh, she still loved them. Of course she did. They were her children. But, she couldn’t say, hand on heart, that she actually liked them. She hadn’t bothered leaving them anything to eat this evening. They were old enough to sort themselves out. Besides, Julia was fed up considering other people all the time. From now on, she intended making more time for herself – this evening being a perfect example. Even though what she was doing was wrong. Very wrong. Or was it? Shaking off her scarlet-woman cloak, she reasoned with herself: she was only meeting an old school friend. People did that all the time, didn’t they? Renewing acquaintances via social media sites and the like. This evening was nothing more sinister than that. Pasting that thought to the forefront of her mind, she slid out of the car and, with shaking legs, entered the pub.
With only a smattering of bodies inside, Julia spotted Max immediately, in the corner at a table for two.
He rose to his feet as she approached, his mouth stretching into a devastating smile. ‘You look fantastic,’ he declared.
‘Thanks,’ muttered Julia, blushing. She’d really wanted to look nice. To feel nice. Despite her limited wardrobe, it had taken her an age to pull together a suitable outfit. She’d finally opted for a cream silk sweater – which hid her tummy – black jeans, and ankle boots with a tiny heel but which she nevertheless imagined made her legs look longer. She’d swept up her hair in a butterfly clip, and added a pair of dangly silver earrings which she’d treated herself to two years ago and which she’d only just rediscovered during a frantic rummage through her jewellery box. Max, needless to say, looked drop-dead gorgeous in a burnt-orange canvas shirt and beige chinos.
He kissed her gently on her cheek. The combination of that, and the subtle scent of his aftershave, caused a furious fluttering of butterflies in Julia’s gut.
‘Have you, um, been waiting long?’ she asked. Was it just her, or did her voice sound weird? If it did, Max appeared not to notice.
‘Five minutes,’ he replied. ‘I took the liberty of ordering you a gin and tonic – with two slices of lemon. I hope that’s okay. I know you’re driving but I thought one wouldn’t hurt.’
‘Of course it won’t,’ agreed Julia, her flush deepening. Not only had he remembered her favourite tipple, but the bit about the lemon too. As if by magic, the drink appeared at the table, delivered by a pretty young waitress, who smiled shyly at Max. Julia bit back a grin. Max’s effect on the opposite sex had evidently not diminished over the years.
‘So,’ he began. ‘How are the Friday shopping trips going?’
At the playfulness of his tone, Julia began to relax. She’d suspected the conversation might begin with him interrogating her over why she’d called him when she had. And sounding, no doubt, slightly manic. But she should’ve known better. Max had always known how to put her at ease.
‘They’re going,’ she replied, with a coy smile. ‘On a Thursday actually.’
Max chuckled. A delightful gurgling chuckle that caused Julia’s smile to widen. ‘And this change of day wouldn’t have anything to do with me, would it?’
Julia feigned a serious expression. ‘Of course not. It’s too busy on a Friday. Sometimes I have to wait for a parking space.’
‘Really?’ Max’s grey-green eyes twinkled. ‘I always go there on a Friday and I’ve never had to wait for a parking space.
Julia giggled. ‘And you going on a Friday wouldn’t have anything to do with me, would it?’
They both snorted with laughter.
‘Do you know,’ Max confessed, ‘I hung about the cereal aisle so long one week, the assistant asked if I needed any help.’
Julia guffawed. ‘Oh my God. That happened to me too.’
‘And then,’ he continued, ‘when I reached the checkout and the guy asked me if I’d found everything I wanted, I almost screamed “No, I damn well didn’t”.’
Julia’s mouth dropped open. ‘Ha! I wanted to scream the very same thing when they asked me that.’
‘Do you remember the time when we went to that supermarket in York to buy stuff to make pizzas with?’ Max asked.
‘I do,’ said Julia, snorting with laughter again. ‘You were wearing new shoes and slipped on the floor beside the fish-finger freezer. And that old lady rushed over and tried to give you mouth-to-mouth.’
‘Then the security guard thought I was being attacked and tried to prise her off me.’
‘And she hit him round the head with her handbag,’ finished off Julia, tears of laughter streaming down her cheeks. ‘It was a classic. You really couldn’t have made that up.’
‘If we’d had YouTube in those days, we’d have been top of the hit list,’ said Max. ‘We did make some good pizzas up in York, though. Or at least I did. Yours, if I recall, were always slightly soggy.’
‘They were not,’ countered Julia defiantly. ‘At least I tried to experiment. You always went for the tried and tested pepperoni and mushroom.’
‘And rightly so. Nothing wrong with knowing your limitations and sticking to them in my opinion. I loved messing about in that kitchen, though. Then snuggling up in your room and watching crap telly.’
Julia stopped laughing and gawped at him. ‘Did you? Honestly?’
‘Of course I did,’ confirmed Max. ‘I always told you I did.’
Julia shook her head in disbelief. ‘I thought you were just saying it. I thought you must be bored out of your tree. That you’d much rather be with your friends in Cambridge.’
‘So you said,’ replied Max. ‘Several times when you were busy dumping me. I know I was probably a bit of a stalker, following you back to York and everything after you’d walked away from me in Cambridge, but talk about a curved ball. I couldn’t believe it. I honestly thought we had it all.’
‘We did,’ muttered Julia. ‘And because of my stupid insecurities, I threw it all away.’
Max lowered his voice. ‘I’ve never stopped loving you, you know. You broke my heart when you finished it. I thought we’d be together forever.’
Julia’s head snapped up to him. ‘But I honestly thought I was doing the right thing. We were too serious, too young. I thought it’d be best for both of us if we had some time apart. Explore things. Meet other people. Completely ironic given that I was saddled with two babies not long afterwards.’
A brief hiatus ensued during which Julia reverted her attention back to the beer mat. She had no idea what to say now. Breaking up with Max had been the biggest mistake of her life. At that moment, she wanted nothing more than to turn back the clock.
She started slightly as he reached across the table and took her hand.
‘It took me months to get over you,’ he confessed. ‘In fact I don’t know if I ever have really.’
‘Of course you have. You’ve gone on to have a very successful life. With masses of exotic babes, I’ll bet.’
Max chuckled. ‘Well, I can’t deny the bit about the babes. But I’ve never been as close to anyone as I was to you. Never allowed anyone to get that close. Because I couldn’t stand the thought of being hurt like that again. If I ever went for counselling, I think they’d say I was irreparably damaged by my first great love.’
Julia snorted incredulously. ‘You’re not being serious.’
‘Oh but I am. Deadly serious.’
Julia’s mouth dropped open. From the tone of his voice, she could tell he meant it. Which made her feel like a complete and utter cow. ‘Well,’ she uttered. ‘I … in that case, I really don’t know what to say. Other than “sorry”.’
‘Don’t be sorry,’ said Max, shaking his head. ‘I know you thought you were doing the right thing. And I should have done more to persuade you that you weren’t. Although quite what else I could have done, I have no idea. Tell me this, though, Julia,’ he said, gently rubbing his thumb across her palm. ‘Do you think twenty years apart is long enough?’
At his tender touch, Julia’s insides melted. This felt good. This felt right. This felt like she belonged here. With Max. She raised her eyes to his.
‘What are you suggesting? That we …?’
‘Are you happy?’
Julia flinched. No one had ever asked her that before. No one seemed to care if she was happy or not. As long as their needs were met.
‘I was happy with you,’ she all but whispered.
‘And I was happy too. Which is why I’ll never understand you ending it.’
Tears welled in Julia’s eyes. ‘The truth is, I was afraid. Afraid you’d get bored with me. You had the world at your feet. I never felt good enough for you.’
Max shook his head in disbelief. ‘You were more than good enough for me. You were better than me. I loved you to distraction. And I don’t think I’ve ever stopped. Yes, there have been lots of other women. But none of them has ever meant as much to me as you did.’
‘Not even the gorgeous, successful Ellie?’
‘Nowhere near. Do you love Paul?’
Tears began rolling down Julia’s cheeks. Drawing her hand from his, she swiped them away, before reaching for her glass and taking a large slug of G&T.
‘I think he’s having an affair. With Natalia. His “assistant”,’ she blurted out. Before setting down her glass with such force that a splash of liquid landed on the table top.
‘And how does that make you feel?’
She sucked in a deep breath. ‘Crap. Worthless. A complete and utter failure.’
‘You’re none of those things.’
‘Aren’t I? No one else seems to think so.’
‘I think so.’
Max reached for her hand again, this time lifting it to his mouth and brushing his lips against it. A bolt of electricity flashed down Julia’s spine.
‘Really?’ she asked shyly, her gaze fused with his.
‘Absolutely,’ he replied.
Before reaching across the table and kissing her.
*****
Still abed, propped up against the pillows, Miranda stared at the laptop screen. Details of the London abortion clinic stared back at her. She’d lost count of how many times she’d attempted to read the information. Diligently divided up into short, clearly headed sections, its user-friendly format completely bypassed her. Her eyes scanned the words, but every one of them stubbornly refused to transmit to her brain. Like an avalanche on a railway line, nothing could get through.
But that wasn’t good enough. She had to do something. She couldn’t possibly have this baby. She didn’t want to have this baby. Every time she looked at it she would be reminded of just what a mess she’d made of her life. Oh, she had all the material trappings: the large house, the fancy car, the designer clothes. Not that she could take credit for any of those things. She hadn’t contributed a penny. Her entire dissipating lifestyle had been funded by Doug’s hard work. Her own achievements were pathetically lacking. She wondered how different life would have been had her dad never received the inheritance; if she’d never been despatched to Briardene; if she’d stayed in Jarrow and made her life there. Would she have been any happier? Would she ever have experienced the feeling of not belonging? Would she and her parents still be close? Of course she wouldn’t have met Doug, but would he have been happier with another woman? Would he have spent so much time working away if he’d married someone else? With hindsight, perhaps he’d only married Miranda because she’d fallen pregnant, unintentionally trapping him. Was that the reason he was away so much? That he adored Josie was unquestionable, but had he ever really loved Miranda? Would the two of them still be together had it not been for their daughter? Tears began streaming down her cheeks, and at the shrill sound of the telephone on the bedside table beside her, she almost leaped out of her skin. In a bid to do nothing other than stop the intrusive sound, she snatched up the receiver.
‘Hello.’
‘Hello, darling. Are you all right?’
It was Doug. Just the sound of his voice caused fresh tears to well in her eyes, not helped by his concerned tone. She blinked them away and drew in a fortifying breath. She couldn’t let him know anything was wrong. If he started questioning her, she’d break down completely.
‘I’m fine,’ she sniffed. ‘I was just about to get up.’
‘Get up?’ His concern intensified. ‘But it must be nearly midday there.’
Miranda glanced at the bedside clock. 11.40 am. Which meant she’d been staring at the computer screen for over three hours.
‘I’ve got a bit of a cold,’ she lied. ‘How are you?’
‘I’m great, thanks,’ he gushed. ‘Even better now I’ve managed to wangle a few days away from the office. Which means … I’ll be back for Josie’s party.’
At this declaration, a surge of panic crashed over Miranda. This wasn’t what she’d planned at all. She’d intended having the whole abortion business behind her long before she saw Doug again. And have sorted out her head. But there wasn’t time now. Which meant she’d have to face her husband while carrying another man’s child. Limbs shaking, feeling like she might throw up at any minute, she dashed into the en-suite bathroom and crouched down beside the loo, the phone still pressed to her ear.
‘… which means I actually won’t arrive until the evening of the party,’ Doug said as she tuned back in. ‘That’s the earliest I could get away. But at least I’ll still see my little girl turn eighteen.’
In a futile attempt to quell her nausea, Miranda sucked in a couple of deep breaths. She prayed Doug would continue talking, allowing her more time to compose herself. He didn’t. Meaning it was her turn to speak.
‘She’ll, um, be thrilled,’ she heard herself say – in a voice that bore no resemblance to her own. ‘She’s desperate for you to be there.’
Thankfully Doug appeared not to notice her strangled tone.
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‘I know,’ he chuckled. She’s told me a million times. I thought we could keep it a surprise. I’d love to see her face when I walk through the door.’
Miranda closed her eyes. Doug’s unabashed excitement grated on her like fingernails on a blackboard. Because there was no guilt driving his enthusiasm. Just unadulterated love for his only child.
‘Good idea,’ she managed to croak. ‘I’ll have the camera ready.’
Doug laughed. ‘So how are the party plans coming along? Do you need me to do anything?’
Another swell of nausea roiled in Miranda’s stomach. This charming, considerate man whose life she was now convinced she’d ruined, deserved better. Much, much better. ‘Er, no,’ she stammered. ‘It’s lovely of you to offer but it’s all in hand.’
‘I can hardly believe she’s going to be eighteen,’ sighed Doug wistfully. ‘It seems like only yesterday when we brought her home for the first time. Do you remember? We put about sixteen layers of clothes on the poor little mite. It was a wonder she could breathe.’
Shivering as she leaned against the cold tiles of the bathroom wall, Miranda’s mind cantered back to that very occasion. She recalled being completely awestruck that such a tiny being – so beautiful, so fragile – could have sprung from her loins. Despite her current pathetic state, a smile touched her lips. ‘She was so tiny,’ she all but whispered. ‘I was scared to hold her.’
Doug chuckled. ‘Me too. But I have to say, Mrs Cutler, that for all we didn’t plan on her making an appearance, that girl is the best surprise I’ve ever had. She’s one in a million, isn’t she?’
More tears pricked Miranda’s eyes. ‘She is,’ she muttered, battling the urge to ask him if he still would have married her had Josie never made an appearance.
‘Oh, I have to go,’ piped up Doug, at the sound of voices in the background. ‘But before I do … how’s your dad?’